A Most Interesting Proposal
by domina tempore
Summary: The first time that Neal ever laid eyes on Vala Mal Doran, she was picking Agent Burke's pocket.(x2 Xover with, Stargate: SG1 and White Collar. Part 5 in my Respectable Scoundrels series.)


**A Most Interesting Proposal**

**Series: Respectable Scoundrels**

_Disclaimer: White Collar and Stargate both belong to their respective owners; I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement intended! _

_Author's Note: Seeing as I've posted quite a few fics dealing with the many escapades of Neal and Vala, I figured that it was about time I posted their first meeting. I always figured that however they met, they would be utterly failing to con each other and completely fooling everyone else in sight. It was fun to do. (also as a note, Vala is already working for the Warehouse, but obviously Neal at this point knows nothing about it.)_

_Also, this is the last fic that I'm posting in the year 2013. Such a weird feeling..._

_Happy New Year, everyone! _

**ooo**

The first time that Neal ever laid eyes on Vala Mal Doran, she was picking Agent Burke's pocket.

He had no idea who she was at the time; just another pretty face. If he hadn't had an eye on the agent anyways, he might never have seen the lift. It was truly a work of art, too. Slipping past him in the doorway, spilling just enough coffee on herself to apologize and send him for napkins, and her hand was in and out of his coat almost too fast to see.

Neal was suitably impressed, and her actions gave him and Mozzie the necessary space to slip out of the shop before Agent Burke noticed them there. Neal thought that he might like to meet that woman one day, though, if only to shake her hand.

"I have no idea who she is," Mozzie admitted once they were clear of the cafe, responding most likely to the question on Neal's face. "Must be new to the business."

Neal raised an eyebrow. "Or as good as you."

Mozzie looked mildly offended. "Neal, please. _No one_ is as good as me." He paused for a beat. "She did make us, though. Unless she was just staring at my hair."

The small man's current toupee was a particularly hideous creation, so Neal could have bought that explanation. But the way that she moved, all casual grace and confidence, that was not just surprise that he'd let Moz out in public.

Neal shook his head. "She's good," he muttered appreciatively.

"And you've got the FBI breathing down your neck," Mozzie reminded him, frowning over the rims of his glasses. "This is not the time to be getting stars in your eyes about some lady grifter."

"A guy's got to have a hobby."

"Neal, _art theft_ is a hobby. Women are a plague."

"Yes, but a very attractive one..."

"Okay, cool it, Romeo. The Suits, need I remind you, are on your tail; that Fed would have made you back there just now! New York is too hot for you; it's time to move on."

Neal sighed. The part of him that was highly tuned to his sense of self-preservation knew that his friend was right, but he liked New York. The larger part of him was going to miss the city, and the challenge of staying once step ahead of Burke. Mozzie, of course, wouldn't understand that; for him, when things got hot, you ran and didn't look back. No time for nostalgia. "Where to this time?" he asked with a resigned sigh.

"Europe," Moz said without hesitation. "I've got a contact in Vienna, but she covers most everything across the pond. I'll talk to her and see what she can do while _you_ work yourself up a new passport. Go for something classy this time; like 'James Feltore' or 'Leviticus Kane'."

"I'll think of something," Neal chuckled, patting his friend on the shoulder. "You just talk to your friend."

"You're my only friend, Neal. You should know that by now."

_(three months later)_

Neal had decided he liked Europe. He missed New York – the city was home to him, or as close as it got – but he had definitely found the appeal in the British Isles. The people, the food, the history, the _art_, it was all amazing. Not to mention the fancy hotels that he hadn't stuck around to pay for yet.

There was always the threat of Interpol catching up with him, of course; but they were not as good as Peter Burke. Neal was quite comfortable making his way around, stealing things and learning new languages. Overall he felt pretty safe.

...But safe was boring. Which was why, when he saw the woman who had picked Agent Burke's pocket all those weeks ago walk into the cafe he was currently occupying, he decided to have a little fun.

He'd seen her on the offensive back in New York, controlling the situation; he was curious to see what she'd do if he put her on the spot. Grinning, he stepped up behind her and spun her around into a hug. "Charlotte!" he exclaimed, loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear. "I've missed you!"

Neal felt her entire body tense for a split second, but she melted into his embrace almost immediately. It felt so natural that it almost threw _him_. "Hello, gorgeous," she responded, her accent rich and smokey and not quite traceable, though she could pass for British. She slid her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "You're really not my type, love," she breathed in his ear, "though I'm flattered."

How did she manage to sound so seductive _and_ uninterested at the same time?

Neal kissed the corner of her mouth, a dare. "Please, tell me what is and I'll do my best to change for you," he whispered.

"I prefer archaeologists," she raised an eyebrow. "And I thought you preferred New York?"

"You've got a good memory."

"One of my many qualities." She winked. "Oh, but our audience is getting restless. Shall we give them a show?"

Neal schooled his face into a serious, earnest expression even though he wanted to laugh because he hadn't had this much fun since Greece. "I've got just the thing."

One of the first things he'd done, before he'd even spun her all the way around, was slip a ring off of her finger. He returned it now, dropping down on one knee with the question spilling from his lips. "Marry me?"

The woman's eyes widened, and her nostrils flared minutely before her whole face transformed. Tears filled her eyes, contrasting the blinding smile on her lips as she nodded and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the mouth and hard enough to take his breath away. He was vaguely aware of applause in the cafe as she pulled back.

"Wow," Neal rasped, still a little breathless. "You want to get out of here before someone pulls out a priest?"

"If we're allowed," she muttered dryly, glancing at the over-enthusiastic patrons of the little shop now hemming them in.

Neal saw her point.

Forty minutes and over a hundred euros worth of baked goods later, Neal and his new friend escaped the celebration and melted into the foot traffic.

The flirty fiance turned off almost as soon as they stepped out of the building. She rolled the tension out of her shoulders and fell into step beside Neal, and suddenly she was that grifter he recognized under the glamor and charm. "You're a long way from home," she rephrased her earlier observation. "What happened?"

"I needed a change of scenery."

"Some change."

"This isn't so bad." Neal shrugged it off. "What about you? I seem to remember you like the city, too; though I have to admit Europe suits you."

She chuckled and shook her head, sticking her hand in a random man's pocket as they squeezed through a crowd. "New York was actually just a job," she told him, flipping through the wallet she'd lifted. She was _really good_. "I was there for less than a day; I try to avoid the States."

"Too hot for you?"

"You might say that. Mostly I'm not over-fond of your government."

"Is anyone?" She gave a non-committal 'hm', and Neal took the cue to change the subject. "I never had a chance to thank you for the distraction back in New York, by the way. Was Burke part of your job, or...?"

"No, nothing to do with him. But I happened to notice you and your funny friend looking rather distressed, and it wasn't hard to put together."

"You could have turned us in," Neal observed.

The woman tilted her head thoughtfully, chewing her bottom lip. "I could have," she agreed. "But people like us have to stick together, don't they? Besides, I don't..."

"...Don't like the government, noted."

"Not too fond of China, either," she muttered, almost as an afterthought. Then she shook her head and grinned up at him. "So, fair's fair; I saved your skin, you tell me your name and why you're worth it. I assume you're more than just a pretty face?" She blinked at him, a little bit of that sexy persona coming out.

"Now, I don't hand out my name to just anybody..."

"And I don't work with just anybody, but if you're not interested I can find someone else to do the job."

"Wait, hold on a second. What job?"

She raised an eyebrow, and her eyes sparkled. "Name first."

"Oh, fine." Neal sighed dramatically, figuring that she'd appreciate the flair nearly as much as his honesty. "Neal Caffrey."

"Pleasure." She stuck out her hand and shook his, the movement fluid but not quite natural. Neal's brain quietly filed that detail away for later. "I'm Vala. Vala Mal Doran."


End file.
